Wicked Games
by A Touch of Everything
Summary: Vector is out of control. Booze and drugs are ruling his life. The Chaotix hardly know him anymore, and with a deadly case on their hands, things are looking grim. Then, situations get even riskier when he falls in love... with a human. Rated for language
1. Prologue: The Worst Day

**IMPORTANT! Read author note!**

A/N: Allo allo! I would just like to say that Vector's character is NOT the one from Sonic Heroes (you know with the badass gold chain and everything), it's from the Archie comics (the one where he speaks like a gangsta, or, should I say cranksta? Get it? Crocodile and gangsta? Hahaha…) Why? Because although he looks neat in Sonic Heroes, I can't stand his voice or how they made him look a little chunkier. Just thought I'd make that clearer for you. Oh and BTW, the title comes from the song Wicked Game by H.I.M. and Chris Isaac. I love that song, you should check it out (I recommend the H.I.M. version). Bye bye!

Disclaimer:…. Seriously, does anybody really read this thing? I think you all know that I don't own the Sonic Characters. Or duct tape. I'd be freakin' rich.

* * *

Wicked Games

Prologue: The Worst Day

_**If shame had a face I think it would kind of look like mine  
If it had a home, would it be my eyes?  
Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of this?  
Well here we go now, one more time **_

I tried to climb your steps  
I tried to chase you down  
I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground  
I tried to earn my way  
I tried to change this mind  
You better believe that I have tried to beat this

So will this end?  
It goes on and on  
Over and over and over again  
Keep spinning around, I know that it won't stop  
Till I step down from this for good

I never thought I'd end up here  
I never thought I'd be standing where I am  
I guess I kind of thought it would be easier than this  
I guess I was wrong, now, one more time

_**I tried to climb your steps  
I tried to chase you down  
I tried to see how low I could get down to the ground  
I tried to earn my way  
I tried to change this mind  
You better believe that I have tried to beat this **_

So will this end?  
It goes on and on  
Over and over and over again  
Keep spinning around, I know that it won't stop  
Till I step down from this

Sick cycle carousel

_**This is a sick cycle, yeah…  
Sick cycle carousel  
This is a sick cycle, yeah… **_

So will this end?  
It goes on and on  
Over and over and over again  
Keep spinning around, I know that it won't stop  
Till I step down from this for good

_**Will this end?  
It goes on and on  
Over and over and over again  
Keep spinning around, I know that it won't stop  
Till I step down from this for good… **_

Sick cycle carousel  
Sick cycle carousel  
Sick cycle carousel  
Sick cycle carousel  
Sick cycle carousel  
Sick cycle carousel  
Sick cycle carousel…

_-Sick Cycle Carousel_

_By Lifehouse_

_

* * *

_

Vector walked along the darkened streets of Angel Island, cursing his rotten luck. That morning, he had woken up in Espio's apartment, on his coffee table nevertheless, with a massive hangover and no recollection of the night before. Then, as he was just getting over this little surprise, in walked Knuckles and the purple lizard himself. They had stared him down with glares for a good minute before they started yelling at him for screwing up 'once again'.

So, naturally, Vector left as fast as he could. He then wandered miserably through the city most of the day, trying to find something to make him feel better. To make matters even grimmer, his CD player somehow… _exploded. _It just fell apart for no apparent reason, sending his beloved mixed CD into the streets to get run over by a bus.

Vector cursed once again, and kicked an old soda can that was on the sidewalk as hard as he possibly could. Thinking about it all made him steamed. The rest of the Choatix treated him like some criminal now. The only one who really talked to him anymore was Mighty, and he had the feeling that even _he _avoided him sometimes.

_It's because of what you're doing to yourself…_ A nasty little voice hissed inside his head. Vector forced the thought to the back of his mind. He knew… he knew that was it. He just didn't want to admit it.

It was all a vicious cycle. Vector would drink so much one night, and wind up in some strange place, often times with no memory of the day or night before. Then, the Chaotix would of course find out. That led to lectures from Espio or Knux himself, and after expressing their 'disappointment' and 'worry' to him, Vector would, consequently, feel like crap. And the only thing that would make him feel better was to drink, among certain other certain things… The sequence would then repeat itself.

Sadly, this had been happening for a long time now. Vector didn't know how it started, but it just wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried. He figured that this was probably going to continue until his demise, or even _be _his demise, and that was that. He just didn't really care at this point anymore.

The crocodile looked up at the gray sky, through the tall buildings and the overhanging shop roofs, and jammed his hands into the pockets of his 'new' leather jacket that he had bought at some secondhand store. It was the beginning of winter, and already the season had sicced its icy breath upon the island. He fished around for a cigarette, hoping that it would warm him up, but all he got with was an empty carton. Vector sighed. Of course he had little money on him, so he couldn't go out and buy some more, either.

Looking down at his feet, he began to think about what he could do to get cash, when he felt a cold, wet raindrop crash onto the back of his neck. He also noticed that the sidewalk was becoming speckled with the drops. Fast.

Vector gritted his teeth. If there really was a God up there, it hated him. And if to prove this theory, a huge sheet of rain suddenly fell from the sky and continued to rapidly pound against the his body as if he were being pelted with rocks. He ran frantically, looking for some shelter. He saw a pub about two blocks away from him, and decided that was his best chance for survival.

The reptile basically tumbled through the door and let it slam shut behind him, which caused some unwanted stares. Vector hated staring. _Well, at least I'm better off in here than out there, _he thought, as he brushed off the rainwater from the shoulders of his now-soggy coat. He glanced at the ogling faces. They certainly didn't look very friendly. He frowned. _Or maybe I should take my chances outside…_

Since Vector wasn't in the mood to see who could gape longer at who, he stuck his hands into his damp pockets and made his way over to an empty bar stool. The air was thick and hazy from all the smokers, and the only lights in the place were a few dimly lit, low hanging ceiling lamps. There were holes in the walls, no doubt from drunken fights, and the cheesy paint job was looking sorry. The pool table had nasty stains on its green felt surface, and Vector could see that the Eight Ball had been stolen from the bunch. He groaned.

_Real nice place you picked here, Vector, _he thought to himself bitterly. The bar he usually went to was at least twice as better than this joint, and the girls _there _didn't look like hookers. But, Vector figured that he brought this upon himself, and he would just have to deal with it. It was icing on the cake of crappy day-ness.

The scaly green fellow sat himself down, and buried his head in his arms on the counter, not caring that his sleeves were still wet with rain. He gave a quiet moan. No cigs, no money, now what? The bar tender looked at him and chuckled.

"Bad day, mac?" he said and poked the seemingly lifeless being in front of him.

"Just gimme something hard and cheap, and do it quick." Vector grunted, his voice muffled by his little barrier.

"That bad, huh?" The face-less voice snorted, as he filled a shot glass full with some strange concoction. "Well then, I'm sure this'll do, just don't ask what's in it."

Vector mumbled something unidentifiable as a reply. He heard the guy set the glass in front of him, then felt him pat his shoulder. Lifting his weary head, the crocodile looked at the mysterious drink. The liquid was dark and bubbly. He downed it in an instant. It burned as it slithered through his throat, but it felt strangely pleasant.

"Damn, that's good…" Vector breathed, feeling a little refreshed. "Uh… how much do I owe ya?"

"Nothing."

"What?" he liked the sound of _that._ The tender laughed.

"Listen buddy, it seems to me that you had one hell of a day, and I ain't gonna be blamed for makin' it worse by charging you, alrighty? Have as many as you want of those, and those only, it's all on me."

Vector thought he was going to cry he was so happy. He raised his head to look at his savior. The voice belonged to a seemingly fierce lion complete with five nose rings in each nostril, and his mane shaved into a mohawk. But right now in Vector's eyes, he was the equivalent to a saint. He glanced at his nametag, which read 'Clark'.

"Holy crap, I love you." That sent Mr. Clark into hysterics.

"Heh heh, well, I just hope things will look up for you soon, bud." And with that, Vector's new friend went into the back room. He wondered if he should've asked him for a couple of cigarettes too, but maybe that would've been pushing a little far.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Vector saw the cat next to him set down a half-empty carton of the cancer causing sticks just a few inches away, like he was taunting him. The cat then got up and headed toward what was most likely the restroom. He shuddered at the thought of using the 'ol sany-can _here, _but nevertheless, it was the best opportunity to get some free smokes…

Vector looked around to make sure he had no witnesses, then like a lightning bolt he snatched about three cigs. Luckily, he actually did have a lighter on him, and even though it was a little moist, it still lit. He smiled happily. Maybe his day would end on a good note.

The big lug of a kitty didn't even notice the missing sticks when he eventually crawled out of the commode, if he did he surely didn't care. He just grabbed one and lit up himself. Vector, relieved, closed his eyes and took a long drag on his stolen one. The smoke, with its deadly but oh-so-bittersweet poison, felt good as it filled his lungs. He exhaled slowly and watched the gray, swirling vapor rise toward the ceiling like a dream…

But Vector's 'dream' was interrupted abruptly when the TV's volume suddenly got loud by itself. Startled, he looked up at the two television screens which only seconds ago had been broadcasting a baseball game. Headlining the top of the screen read "BREAKING NEWS" in bold red letters, and in the center was the 'famous' female Echidna reporter Trisha Gillan. Vector looked around the bar to find that the whole place was now attentively gazing at the twin sets.

"We interrupt this television broadcast to give you breaking news on the Operation Peace Guard leader massacres." An automated voice informed the audience before switching over to Trisha's mike.

Ah, the OPG murders… I hope it's good news… Vector thought bleakly. This was a case that The Chaotix had been working on for about five months, around the time the murders started. The OPG organization was a project to help keep things between the overlanders and the Angel Island residents in good terms, like on Mobius. Many leaders of the project were big-time business CEOs who took peace-assuring steps by hiring overlanders and islanders alike. Although there weren't that many humans on Angel Island yet (close to none), many believed that with this act, more would make the journey to live there. Pitifully, most of the native residents hated the idea of overlanders on Angel Island, making the deed slow to progress. But now with the leaders of the operation itself around Angel Island being killed off one by one, there were rumors of a war looming in the future. It was frustrating, because no matter how heavily guarded the OPG followers were, they ended up dead. Vector himself and the rest of the group had worked the scene of the crime a few times, and had come to the conclusion that the murder was actually a female human, which was even more bad news.

Oddly enough, the murder left plenty of evidence to her identity, like she wanted to be found. In fact, the DNA results from the lock of hair they had found just recently at one of the crimes was supposed to reveal her name sometime this week. Unfortunately, it was pretty much too late since only one remaining member of the OPG was left….

"I regret to inform everyone today that Gerry Ling, renown politician and last associate of the Operation Peace Guard, was found dead just momentarily on the floor of his suite in the West Sun hotel. He too was murdered by a fatal shot to the head." Trisha said emotionless, as she circled the area surrounded by yellow police tape with her glove.

Make that none.

"Shit!" Vector spat, and slammed the counter with his hand. Clark automatically filled his shot glass with the same infamous dark liquid as before. _How did this happen! _Vector thought frantically as he slurped the drink down faster than before. _Mighty and a whole crap load of guards were there 24/7 to make sure Gerry didn't end up like the rest of 'em…_ His eyes suddenly grew wide. Mighty…

The crocodile sat up straight, his eyes now glued to the screens. Trisha was bent slightly over and pressing her earphone in to hear the latest reports being fed to her. By the look on the Echidna's face, it was urgent news.

"I'm receiving word that the murder has been found still in the hotel, three flights down of where the scene of the crime is." She said, obviously excited. "The criminal has been identified as Shaya Greenwood, a female overlander."

Although the whole bar booed, Vector heard none of it. He didn't care about the stupid broad's name; he just wanted to know that Mighty was alright. Trisha continued her announcements.

"Shaya reportedly had the murder weapon in her hand when police found her unconscious, most likely from tumbling down the stairs as she was escaping. She is being taken away to a special holding cell at Alcaz Prison on Sakare Street as we speak." The reporter then turned around to face the front of the building. The camera zoomed in as she pointed enthusiastically toward the door. "There she is!"

Emerging from the window-covered structure were many, many policemen all surrounded around one girl, who was wearing torn jeans and a blood stained white shirt. Her hair was bright orange and cut into a short, feathery, flippy style, and when the camera zoomed in closer, tear stains were streaked across her pale face. Surprisingly, she was walking along quietly and wasn't struggling at all. When she saw the cameras all around her, watching her every move, her vibrant green eyes filled with fear and she bowed her head toward the ground. Was this really the cold-blooded murder of the ten peace leaders?

"What about the escorts, you idiot!" Vector snarled at the Echidna, not caring that half the bar was now staring at him. As if to answer his question, stretchers began to roll out of the building one by one, the first being the murdered politician. Vector started to get nervous. He clutched his shot glass so hard he heard it crack.

"What you are seeing now is Mr. Ling's bodyguards being taken from the hotel. A total of twelve guards were assigned to protect Gerry Ling, and now most are either dead or injured." Trisha explained with false sadness in her voice. Vector was on the edge of his seat, scanning each stretcher, hoping that his armadillo friend wasn't one of the unfortunate souls underneath a sheet. The camera zoomed in even closer to give viewers a clear shot of the drama. Then, to his joy, a beat-up figure leaning on an EMP came limping from the deadly depths of the building: Mighty.

Relieved, the reptile took an endless drag on his cigarette to soothe his violently shaking, nervous body. _Damn armadillo, _Vector thought grumpily as he exhaled smoke, _gave me a freakin' heart attack…_ He didn't bother to listen to the rest of report, as his mind was too busy thinking about how pissed 'ol 'Rad Red' was going to be. Dreadlocks was probably going to chew out poor Mighty, too.

Knuckles hadn't been in the best of moods for a while now, most likely because of Vector. He seemed more on edge and had a short temper lately, and the massacre of the Operation Peace Guard leaders probably weren't helping to ease his tension. Now that the leaders were all wiped out, there was no telling how the Echidna would act…

Vector downed about five shots at the thought. By then, he felt himself getting a little woozy, so he decided it would be best for him to leave. He got up, thanked his new friend Clark for the free drinks, and then dizzily made his way over to the door. That was a mistake. On his way there, he tripped over himself and landed face first on a table, which knocked over someone's beer, and then the beverage in turn spilled all over a tough-looking hog. The croc grimaced. He could tell that he was in for it now.

The hog got up, infuriated and sopping wet. He was _**huge**. _Putting both hands together in a fist and raising them over his head, the brute then attempted to slam them down on poor Vector, but luckily the scaly reptile managed to roll out of the way. The table literally snapped in half at the vicious blow. Others then joined in at the brawl, either on Vector's side of the hog's, creating a nasty scene that was wrecking the place.

Finally, sirens could be heard outside at the front of the bar. Police came swarming through the door, getting everybody in control. An important-looking wildcat in uniform then stepped up on a chair to ask the group a certain question.

"Who the hell started this mess?" he barked, obviously angry.

Automatically the crowd all turned and pointed to Vector, who was in the corner of the room trying to make himself unnoticeable. He winced.

"Now wait just one freakin' moment…" he began to say, but was cut off by a police officer who violently slammed him against the wall and handcuffed him. Vector gritted his teeth. "Gently there, bub. You might bruise me." The officer was not amused.

"Save your remarks, you hooligan." He answered bitterly. The crocodile rolled his eyes as he was being taken away into the back seat of the cop car.

"So you're just gonna slap cuffs on me and call it good just because some people said I started that riot?" he said menacingly. "I suppose you arrested that human girl the same way too? Took a tip from some islander, who was most likely racist, that she was the killer, eh?"

The police officer purposely slammed Vector's head on the top of the car before pushing him into the vehicle as an answer. Stunned but angry, Vector tried to counter it by kicking at the cop, but the door slammed shut at the last second, narrowly missing his leg. His captor got into the driver's seat and turned around to meet him with a hotheaded expression on his face.

"Listen you insolent, smart-mouthed little bastard," He growled viciously. "Don't make me punish you more than I have to."

Vector gave a little smirk, satisfied that he had gotten to the guy. He kept his mouth shut for a time before they passed what appeared to be the police station. Confused, our favorite little reptile decided to give a little friendly 'reminder' to the officer.

"You just passed the police station, buddy." Vector said mockingly. "Aw, are you lost?"

Through the rearview mirror, he could see the policeman give him a wickedly evil smile. The croc suddenly got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn't gas.

"Well since you are so obviously interested in the peace leaders murderer," the cop hissed, poison oozing from every word. "I thought you'd be thrilled to have your cell next to hers instead…"

_**To be continued**_

* * *

A/N: So, how was it? Please tell me in a review! I apologize if there is some material about Angel Island and Mobius that is not correct, because I'm not really a dedicated follower of the comic series anymore (my bookstore stopped carrying them…). I really made up the thing about overlanders and stuff on the island and the OPG (obviously), so I'm sorry if it sounds kinda…weird, lol. So, if there is anything that doesn't sound right about the whole human and Angel Island theme, please tell me, I'll appreciate the info very much. And again, please review! Even if it's criticism, as long as it's CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. I'm excited to know if people liked it. Thank you! 


	2. Chapter One: Impressions

Long time no see, eh? God, has it really been 2 years since I've updated? I apologize. Lots have happened. I've moved to a new place, made new friends. Been diagnosed with all sorts of disorders, and there's been a death in the family. Yeah, it's been a hell of a two years, lol. Everyone says it will be good for me if I start writing again, and I thought that right now, this is the story I could most easily pick up on again. So enough about me, let's get to it:

Disclaimer: Think I own Sonic? You're funny.

* * *

Wicked Games

Chapter One: Impressions

_**Keep you in the dark  
You know they all pretend  
Keep you in the dark  
And so it all began... **_

Send in your skeletons  
Sing as their bones go marching in... again  
The need you buried deep  
The secrets that you keep are ever ready  
Are you ready?  
I'm finished making sense  
Done pleading ignorance  
That whole defense

Spinning infinity, boy  
The wheel is spinning me  
It's never-ending, never-ending  
Same old story

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

In time or so I'm told  
I'm just another soul for sale... oh, well  
The page is out of print  
We are not permanent  
We're temporary, temporary  
Same old story

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

I'm the voice inside your head  
You refuse to hear  
I'm the face that you have to face  
Mirrored in your stare  
I'm what's left, I'm what's right  
I'm the enemy  
I'm the hand that will take you down  
Bring you to your knees

So who are you?  
Yeah, who are you?  
Yeah, who are you?  
Yeah, who are you?

Keep you in the dark  
You know they all pretend

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
(Keep you in the dark)  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
(You know they all... pretend)  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

What if I say I'm not like the others?  
(Keep you in the dark)  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
(You know they all... pretend)  
You're the pretender  
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

So who are you?  
Yeah, who are you?  
Yeah, who are you? 

_-The Pretender_

_Foo Fighters_

* * *

It was a while before the car reached its deadly destination. Vector, much to his self-loathing, sat silently the rest of the ride, defeated. What else could he do? Another word and he might become the murder's new best friend. When they finally lurched violently to a stop, he could see his captor smiling at his horror. There it was. Alcaz Prison. Lovingly nicknamed "little corner of hell."

"Home sweet home, eh toots?" The cop howled with laughter, virtually flinging the crocodile out of the vehicle. The building seemed to cackle with him, its entrance baring resemblance to a toothless, grinning monster. Through the icy foreboding fog, Vector couldn't help but stare at the compound that radiated despair and death. And yet, the prison still sat smirking. It was unreal.

With a sharp push from the officer, they began to make their journey into the belly of the beast. The outside of the building was only a mild precursor to the wretchedness that lay within. Inside, it was endless dark. Lights were few and far between; their glow revealed the rotting debris that floated invisible through the air, dancing sadistically in the light. The corpses of moths and flies unfortunate enough to get trapped in the place were now decorations lining the floor. The smell was of damp mold and urine. Already, Vector was disturbed.

"Where the hell do you guys get off keeping a shit hole like this?" Vector growled viciously to his subjugator. A pair of ragged arms stretched out to him through slime-covered cell bars, as if he were their savior. He made sure to avoid contact, but shook his head pityingly. The cop laughed as he beat the arms back with his nightstick.

"Getting scared, princess? Good," he grunted as he forced Vector to come to a halt. They were at the very end of the prison now. There were no windows. It was just as well, because no light would ever shine here. "This is where we send the ultimate scum, the lowest of the low… Like her." A pudgy finger pointed to the dankest cell of all, huddled in a corner. The bars keeping its prisoner in were not of corroded steel like the others, but of red lasers that hummed with deadly power. The light from the beams were the only sources of illumination in the hall, bathing everything in an eerie blood-hued glow. Vector could barely make out the sullen outline of a person inside the lockup.

And suddenly, the crocodile was stripped of his jacket and sent flying through the air. His body met the muck-covered cement with a muffled _crack_. The surrounding guards snickered with sick enjoyment as his favorite patrolman slammed the cell shut. He smirked a stupid smirk.

"Sleep tight, cupcake." He said, and strode away with Vector's precious jacket slung over his fat shoulder. The reptile shouted a few choice words at him before flopping himself down in frustration and leaning against the sticky walls. Now what?

There was a raspy chuckle and a clinking sound following movement in the next cell. It was Shaya Greenwood, the supposed cold overland killer. And it sounded like, to Vector's disbelief, that they had actually shackled her. What was this, Medieval Times? This was a seriously twisted place.

"'Fat, ass-dwelling bastard monkey', eh? I'll have to remember that one." came a muted cough through the keep's walls. The voice was soft and sick sounding, with heavy tones of sorrow entwined in it. Vector raised an eyebrow. Was she really trying to start a conversation with him? He'd rather talk to Sergeant Thunder Thighs. There was more coughing. She sounded really ill. The festering air around them probably didn't help.

"You're one of the Chaotix, aren't you?" She managed to wheeze. "One of the Guardian's friends?"

The silence after her words begged for an answer, for sounds to fill the void. Vector sighed. He'd talk to her. But he never said he'd talk to her nicely.

"And you're the OPG murder, aren't you?" he quipped in a mocking tone. "The most hated person on Angel Island?"

"…I guess."

The crocodile was a little taken aback at the answer, but was quick on the rebound.

"Stunning. You aren't gonna bitch about it?"

"Too cliché." Shaya snorted humorlessly. Vector grunted and closed his eyes, resting his chin on his chest. _Ladies and gentlemen, we have a nutjob_, he mused to himself.

"Well? Did you do it?" An obvious, stupid question. But it needed asking.

"…I don't know."

_What?_ Vector's eyes popped open.

"The hell do you mean 'you don't know'?" he hissed, incredulous. One of the biggest upsets in Angel Island's history, and the prime suspect 'doesn't know' if she committed it.

"Honestly. I don't… know." She groaned. "It's crazy, yeah?" there was a fit of coughing before she rasped on. "My memory is untrustworthy… everything is hazy. I can't imagine killing anyone, and yet, here I am. Covered in blood that's not my own…"

"…That's the biggest load of cheesy shit I have ever heard." Vector laughed snidely. "Congratulations." He heard a small almost indistinguishable chuckle from the other side. Silence reigned for a time, before there was a sound like leaves on stone. She was losing her voice.

"…You ever see a dead person?" her voice was quivering. _Is this some kind of sick joke?_ Vector shook his head.

"Of course I have. I was cleaning up after you, you idiot." He snarled. This was getting old, fast. There was clinking in the next room, an indicator she was squirming uncomfortably in her confinements.

"No." she croaked. There was something unrecognizable in her voice. "No. Not like that." She waited for the reptile to say something, but he was hushed, his head turned toward the source of her voice.

"Have you seen them dying, becoming instantly lifeless? The light leaving from their eyes, the color flushing away from their face, and the blood that was once warm and coursing through their veins leak from their body, turning cold? The last gasping breaths, and the disbelief and agony contained within? Then realizing that you yourself are covered in that wretched blood, you caused that light to fade, and you forced those breaths out of that helpless body, without any recollection of committing that crime, or how you even got there for that matter? Have you experienced losing all trust in yourself completely, to stare at your own gore covered hands in utter confusion and disgust? No, I don't think you have. And I don't think you or any islander for that matter will believe or understand when I say that I would never kill a living thing. So telling the truth and pleading not guilty doesn't really matter, does it?"

It was a tidal wave of misery, uncertainty, and anger. It seemed to sweep across the air and drown the whole prison in a shaken stillness, and Vector was quietly swimming in the middle of it. Talk was cheap. Words right now would just drift listlessly in the dark waters. The girl took a choked breath. There was the clanking of her chains, and the assumption that she had lain down on the rancid floor, floating and resting on the sea of thoughts she had created.

"Your lover's here, sunshine." An all-too-familiar voice hooted. And suddenly, Vector wasn't swimming anymore. He looked up, and there with Colonel Chubby was Espio, his hands folded across his chest, and eyes narrowed. The crocodile wasn't sure if he was thrilled or terrified to see him. He rose unsteadily from the ground, and walked toward the exit. He was still dizzy from good 'ol Clark's concoction. Keys jangled, and magically, the cell door swung open. His jacket was hurled at him from some unseen source, and he thanked them with a middle finger (which he received a sharp jab in the ribs from Espio). And without a word from his chameleon friend, they began the trek toward the front of the building.

Before leaving the dismal hall, Vector chanced a look back at the laser-lighted cage. There, staring up at him with piercing green eyes and a blood streaked, fair face was the "ruthless murder" Shaya Greenwood. The reptile hesitated for a moment as he saw her lips forming silent words.

"So long."

* * *

The car ride with Espio was almost as bad as the one with the cop. There wasn't a word spoken, and every time Vector made a move toward the radio, his hand received a good slap. He spent the time making smiley faces gloomily in the fog on the window. He was unpleasantly surprised when they pulled up to Knuckles' stuffy apartment complex.

"What, I can't even go home? Unbelievable." Vector said, tossing an annoyed glance at Espio. Espio, in return, gave him an unreadable look that slightly frightened Vector.

"Everyone's meeting at Knux's place tonight. He said it was urgent. Whether it's about your screw-up or something else, I don't know." He muttered, emotionless, then got out of the car. "Come on."

Jamming his hands in his pockets and gritting his teeth, the crocodile followed. They walked swiftly through the fancy lobby with its chandeliers to the express elevators that waited on the other side. Vector seemed to draw disapproving looks from the apartment staff and its inhabitants. He saluted them with a raspberry as he sailed by. They stepped lightly into the threshold of the elevator and pressed floor number 24. The penthouse apartment. Life is good when you're the all-mighty Guardian.

The Echidna's residence was unusually dark; the glow of the moon from the windows washed everything in a white glimmer. Espio walked briskly through the giant entertainment room with its multiple stereos and its massive TV. Past guestrooms, balconies, and bathrooms they went, until they came to the only door with light escaping through the opening beneath. Without pause, the lizard swung the door open to Knuckles' office. Like Espio had said, everyone was there. Knuckles at the head of the prestigious oak meeting table in his leather chair, and the ever-present Julie-Su perched on his right, giving Vector a severe look. Even poor Mighty was there, sitting tenderly in a beat-up easy chair dragged from the guest room. He gave his crocodile friend a weak smile, the only one in the room. Espio made himself comfortable on the arm of the Mighty's run-down throne.

"Aw come here, you ugly lug," Vector grunted, and gave the armadillo a not-so-gentle hug. He winced and squirmed, but allowed his buddy to continue the painful gesture of affection. "Never thought seein' your chapped hide would be so comforting, pal."

"Heh heh… It's good to see you too, Vec… ow…" Mighty choked out, rubbing his bruises soothingly after Vector stopped crushing him. A sharp cough interrupted their comical reunion, and all eyes turned to an irritated Knuckles. The crocodile gritted his teeth, snatched a pack of cigarettes off the table, and made his residence in the lonely corner furthest from the Echidna.

"As much as we are all overjoyed to see Mighty in one piece," said the Guardian, nodding to his injured companion, who gave meek acknowledgement back. "I'm afraid we have very urgent business to take care of. So I'm afraid, Vector," his eyes turned fiercely to the reptile, who was lighting a fresh smoke at the moment. "We'll also have to postpone the telling of your latest little 'adventure', to everyone's dismay."

Vector gave Knuckles a sarcastic, venomous smile as an answer. _Ass_ he thought bitterly, taking a well-needed drag on the cig. The Echidna then hit a few buttons on the remote beside him, making the room go dark. A large, sheet-like screen rolled down behind him, and a projector from somewhere in the room flickered to life. The image was of the recently deceased Gerry Ling, at an important looking event in Angel Island's main street.

"As you all undoubtedly know by now, the last of the OPG leaders, politician Gerry Ling, was murdered just a few hours ago at the West Sun hotel. With the entire Peace Guard organization now wiped out, there is no telling how the Islanders, or the overlanders, will now act. The rumors of war I believe are accurate. It's only a matter of time." Knuckles explained, rubbing his throbbing head carefully. The image changed to a blood-soaked young woman. "Shaya Greenwood. Nineteen years old, five-feet three inches, one-hundred and ten pounds, and supposed cold-blooded killer of ten OPG leaders. If you ask me, it's hard to believe a little Powerpuff Girl like her could cause so much damage."

The room nodded in silent agreement, but Vector just continued to stare at the screen, wondering if he should share his encounter with his friends. But Espio beat him to the punch.

"Ask the over-grown handbag his opinion. He had a cage next to hers in the slammer." He said coldly, pointing to the crocodile with an accusatory thumb. Vector frowned as all attention turned toward him. He took a breath of smoke from his cancer stick.

"Well?" Knuckles asked, impatiently. Vector made sure he took incredibly long to exhale before he spoke.

"…She's an odd one, for sure…" he muttered, hesitantly. He really didn't want to talk about it that much. "As for committing ten murders? Who the hell knows…"

The Echidna seemed to analyze Vector and his words for a moment before continuing on.

"Whether she's a basketcase or not, it seems highly unlikely that a young woman of her standard is capable to pull-off something this big. At least, not alone. Mighty, if you wouldn't mind sharing your experience on the recent case…"

"Not a problem." The armadillo wheezed. "So, twelve guards, including myself, were assigned to Mr. Ling. We were not to leave his side at any given time, even had to follow the guy into the restroom, for Chrissake. From what I saw, not one of the guards strayed from watch, seemingly eliminating the possibility of an inside man." He gave a slight cough, and scratched his nose before continuing on. "Everything was going as smoothly as a bodyguard case could go, until around… noon? I can't remember… Anyways, from my understanding, Gerry received a strange phone call during that time, that obviously disturbed him. An undecipherable message, I heard."

"You know what it was?" Knuckles interjected quickly, interested. Mighty shook his head sadly.

"Unfortunately, no. He refused to tell anyone." The Guardian waved his hand for him to continue on. "So get this, the guy starts to act strange and demands to be taken immediately to his suite, won't take no for an answer. We get there, he opens his room, and a tidal wave of a strange smelling, pitch-black gas just blasts everyone in the face."

"Knockout gas?" Julie-Su interrupted.

"No. At least, I don't think we were unconscious." Mighty racked his brain for the foggy memories. "I remember everyone was yanked into the room, staggering in the darkness. Next thing we know, there are punches coming from everywhere, and I heard multiple shots fired. This may sound crazy, but I don't remember seeing anything in the room… anything _living_…"

"…What are you saying?" Knuckles asked, concerned. The armadillo clearly didn't want to explain, but was nudged gently by Espio to carry on.

"Honestly? It looked like… ghosts."

The room was silent. Vector gave his injured pal a curious look. The poor guy was clearly embarrassed, rubbing the large bump on his head nervously. Knuckles was staring straight at the wall, contemplating. Finally, he spoke.

"Thank you, Mighty." He said distinctly, unshaken by the armadillo's strange account. "I think you may have helped my case along. Obviously, there is more to this situation than the public and the authorities will admit. The phone call, the gas, the obvious evidence… Something is plainly wrong here. But unfortunately, we need more time than we have to uncover it."

"What's the problem?"

"An execution date for Miss Greenwood has already been set. This Friday morning."

A wave of surprise rippled across the room.

"So soon? That's two days from now. No trial, no court? Flat out capital punishment?" Julie-Su prompted. Knuckles gave a dry laugh.

"You think they're going to provide justice to the most hated overlander on the island right now? Especially when they have her cornered with evidence and everything? That's putting way too much faith in society. No, I have already argued with the higher-ups about this. There will be no postponing the sentence. Shaya Greenwood will die Friday, by the special sentence of public hanging."

The same thought drifted through everyone's mind. _Public hanging._ A helluva way to die. Vector took an endless drag at the thought.

"So now what?" Mighty asked quietly. Knuckles sighed and pressed a few buttons, returning the room to normal and blinding everyone with the sudden light.

"We obviously need more time to figure this shit out," Vector murmured, exhaling smoke. "But how?"

"We buy time." The Echidna said matter-of-factly, his voice muffled by the hands that covered his face. The room was silent once more as they processed this answer, making sure they heard correctly.

"What are you suggesting, exactly?" Espio asked cautiously, breaking the ice. All eyes turned to their red leader, who was still buried in his gloves. He shifted slightly in his seat.

"I'm suggesting..." he said slowly, quietly. "We need to make a prison break."

_**To be continued…**_

* * *

Eh, so how was it? I'm probably a little rusty at it. Pardon any errors, I didn't want to reread it 50x over, lol. Also, as you can see, I'm kind of wingin' it, as I haven't read the comics in years. Knuckles could have ditched Julie-Su and be living in a garbage pail, and I wouldn't know, haha. Please let me know what you think, it'll (hopefully) brighten my day. 


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